Underneath The Ground
by MarriColin93
Summary: /I'd like to know if you could see through the soul like I could see to your soul back then. And reach your hands through all the hurt and defenses, would you still try if you knew I was gone?/ The Soldier doesn't trust, doesn't feel...but he knows the moon and he knows her face.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimers, here. Trying a little something out, keep me posted on your opinions and thoughts.**

**Following some MCU and some comics, some ships are just too hard to jump off though. Hold tight.**

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><p>Captain America was a symbol, a recognizable image of hope, virtue, <em>and freedom; <em>the public had long since dubbed anyone he teamed up with to be equally great and some kind of hero. And this all confused and further drove the Soldier away from his handlers...and further away from the great image that is Captain America.

The problem was, the further he tried to run from Captain America, the closer his dreaming mind got to Steve Rogers- a skinny, sickly kid from Brooklyn who apparently knew the Soldier- _James Buchanan Barnes. _

It's because of the dreams that James, the Soldier, finds himself unable to leave the Howling Commandos exhibit inside the Smithsonian museum on his fourth day of _"freedom"._

He sees his own face staring at him with a warm smile and happiness in his eyes, and the Soldier feels weak, lost, exposed.

Pulling his hat down further, he turns back towards the Captain America hall, frowning and unsure of himself. The image of a taller Steve Rogers and himself are in front of him, they're both smiling. Reaching his gloved hand towards the glass wall, the Soldier sighs in frustration. Perhaps he should seek Hydra now, they are all he is certain of. But he can't shake the feeling that it would be wrong to do so, wrong to Steve. Wrong to..wrong to who else?

He feels her beside him before he actually sees her, but this does not shock him. Realizing he _knows _her face does, however. She's dressed in all black, a wide hood covering her from cameras, and she too is looking at the glass wall now. The Soldier sees the frown before she can mask herself again, this troubles him.

She smells of lavender, this is familiar to him.

Touching his sleeve, she speaks to him quietly, "It's time to come back, Soldier."

She is Hydra, he-the Soldier- should've known, it is obvious since no one else can know him except Hydra.

The Soldier continues to stare at her, watches the way her eyes go from dull green to an illuminated emerald as he tilts his head in curiosity.

That is wrong, so he returns to his slouched posture, tucking his hands in his pockets as he moves away from her.

The Soldier hears nothing as she approaches him again, tugging his blue sleeved hoodie again, nodding at the smaller Steve Rogers as she smiles.

"Please, James, we need to go back now.." Her voice is quiet, a whisper as she says his name again...but, machines do not have names.

Unless, he is human.

Nodding, the Soldier begins to follow her towards the exit, noting how she ducks around the metal detectors, as does he.

He knows what will happen, the Soldier has an impressive muscle memory, despite his actual memory being so rapid with spots now.

An unmarked van.

An unknown location.

A grotesque chair.

A scream.

Pain.

Darkness.

But, she knows his name, so he follows her down the steps. She takes them two at a time, her hands at her sides as she turns back every so often to conform he still follows.

The Soldier will always follow, she knows his name. She must have authority, she is Hydra. He will return to them, though he is compromised, because Hydra gives him purpose.

"_James, Hydra is a lie."_

The Soldier shakes his head of these words, but he knows the quiet voice to whom they belong. He sees her glance back again, it proves useless though, as he is much faster than her and vastly larger. He could have been to the dark maroon van by now, if he really wanted to.

The Soldier stops just behind the woman, realizing that machines do not _feel _or _want._

Sliding the door open, the woman frowns as she nods sideways, indicating for him to enter the vehicle. As the Soldier begins to climb inside, he catches a glimpse at her pale, exposed hand. On her right ring finger is a ring, a moon and a sun. He knows this ring, James remembers this ring.

He knows the moon. The sun. He frowns as he seats himself along the wall, hands in his pockets again as the woman enters after him.

"Very good, Amaris." A dark voice says from the front, as the van begins to move forward.

An unknown location.

A grotesque chair.

A scream.

Pain.

The moon.

"Thank you, sir. The Asset came of his own will, though." She says louder now, louder than in the museum. He notices when she pulls the hood back, her hair is not dark like it was inside, it is a vibrant magenta and he is confused.

"The Asset has no will," the man snaps back, looking in the rear view mirror as he speaks down to the woman.

James notices how her jaw clenches, and her hands clench and unclench as she leans against the wall of the van. He sees now a knife strapped to her leg and a small gun to the other and he is sure she could have tried force with him, but she knew his name instead.

Head tilted in confusion, James watches as her hand, the one with the ring, slides down her leg, unclipping the knife as she continues to lean against the vans wall. Her eyes are closed and he sees the scrunch of her nose and the frown on her face, he _knows _this look.

Amaris, that's what the man had called her, but he had also called James 'the Asset', though that is not his given name. Looking over her hands again, James sees now that she's gripping the knife flat against her leg, eyes staring into the roof as the van comes to a five second stop.

Unfolding his hands from his pockets and bringing his right hand up, James pinches the bridge of his nose. Remembering is hard, is painful. Though, so is the chair.

Perhaps instead of going to the museum he should have sought out Steve Rogers or Sam Wilson, it might not have been so painful if he'd gone with that route instead.

Amaris shifts slightly on the bench, leaning forward a bit as she twirls the knife into a defensive position. This action confuses James, they are not currently in danger-

_'Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, 32557, the 107th'_

"32557...32557.." James hear his voice before he knows what he's saying, cradling his head in his hands as he shakes, James sideways at Amaris; his eyes wide and a cold sweat coming over him.

"What did he just say?!" The van jerks sideways and then stops as the man upfront screams back at them, for the first time since entering the van James notices two other men sitting across from himself and Amaris.

"He's muttering, that's all. He's been out of cryostasis too long, on his own, he is delirious.." She rambles off, watches him closely now, shaking her head at him with wide grey eyes.

Rubbing his eyes, James looks at her face harder now, because inside the museum he would've sworn her eyes wore green. Green like grass, like jewels, green like paint...a darker green than Steve's walls...

"Bullshit! Hit 'em both!" The man yells as he begins to move from the front seat towards the back, giving directions to the men sitting across from him and Amaris.

"James, get down!" Amaris screamed suddenly, flinging her knife into the man across from James, who had just begun to dig into one of the many pockets littering the tactical vest he was wearing.

Ducking quickly, James rolled onto the floor as the man across from him heaved and writhed next to him, Amaris' knife embedded into the side of his throat. Yanking it free, he twisted and pulled the second man off of Amaris just as they started to struggle over a needle the man was gripping tightly.

Driving the knife into the back of his knee, James stood, hunched slightly, and wrapped his gloved left hand around the back of the mans neck, banging his head off the seat twice then against his knee.

Turning as quickly as the tight space would allow, James moved for Amaris but paused, watching as she kicked the driver in the face, successfully moving him off of her and back into the front, between the two seats.

Moving forward, James saw how quickly she moved, grabbing the gun from the floor before the man could. The sound of the shot shook him inside, causing him to gasp and clutch at his head. The Soldier wasn't used to this, _feelings. _But James...James was all feeling and all protective caring.

Amaris began to dig around the van, pulling guns and ammo from the storage compartments and re-sheathed her knife, using her sleeve to wipe the blood from her face before she pulled her hood back over her dark hair.

Turning on her knees, she saw as James sat back down, head in hands as he shook, remembering things. Gripping his shoulders and wiping her sleeve across his nose, her voice broke his down-ward gaze, "James! James we've got to go! Now!"

James looked up, meeting the emerald eyes again, his frown deep set as he saw the blood on her hands and neck, "How do I know your face...your eyes keep changing?"

"I'm gonna get you out, James. I promise."

No grotesque chair.

No scream.

(At least not his.)

Minimal pain.

He knows the moon.


	2. Hide and Seek

**Disclaimers, obviously. **

**You'll notice the changes in writing styles as well as Bucky's constant identity changes. It will be a long road to recovery, and it will be filled with confusion and oddness.**

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><p><em>"Someone I love once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to learn that this too, was a gift."<em>

_Mary Oliver._

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><p>"I promise, I will get you out. I promise.." Amaris says, frantically wiping the blood from James face and neck, her hands shaking ever so slightly against his skin. He notices how now, after asking about her eyes, she will not look at him. Turning from him, she moves back to the front of the van. He hears the locks click signaling they can go if they please, but does he?<p>

He hears the click of the cables and harness, the cold washing against his pale face, the wind ruffling his hair as he looks over the ledge. Bucky turns then, to find the man- Steve, looking from one end of the cable to the other miles before them. He's saying something, something Bucky can't make out, but he's looks nervous as he straps his shield to his back.

"James? Stay with me, don't go there now.." Amaris has her hands on his face again, a frown carved onto her pale face as she speaks to him, drawing him from..what, a memory? He isn't sure what's real and what isn't anymore.

Looking at her, his voice trembles only a little when he speaks, "Why did we do that..?" To James, his English sounds rough, forced. He speaks it to her only because she speaks it to him, the Soldier knows many languages, but English has always come naturally easy...did she teach it to him?

"We had to. I want you to stand up now, and I want you to go out of this door," She never takes her hands from his face as she jerks her head towards the sliding side door, "and I want you to begin walking calmly away, I'll follow you. More will come. Go, James, now." The words are rushed, which indicates urgency. James waits a beat until Amaris pulls her hands away, he watches as she removes her jacket and slides on a double shouldered holster, two pistols already locked into place. As she begins to re-cloth, he slides the door open enough to climb out of the bloodied vehicle and into the cool sun.

Judging by the color of the leaves and the crisp wind, it is close to autumn; September, maybe? James isn't sure, but the coolness is nice with the extra layers he wears to conceal his _appendage. _

The Soldier was excellent at following orders, but James (Bucky..?) is good too. So, he walks calmly down the sidewalk. Not too fast, as Amaris did say she would follow him.

"Good, keep walking. We need to put some space between us and the van. I'm sure another will follow soon.." Her voice breaks his thoughts (confused, spotted, dark). Looking to his left, he sees her walking next to him, unsure of when she caught up or what she was doing in the van after he left.

"What are we doing?" He questions, his voice low and alert now. Is this a mission? James isn't sure, but he sees her dark hair spilling from under the hood and as a gust of wind pushes past them, he smells lavender again.

_"It's supposed to be calming..and the flowers are very pretty." The women says, laughing as she pulls on her black laced boots.._

A pull from his left yanks him back to reality as he feels heat on his hand. Amaris pulls him closer, steering them around a group of young people with cameras and maps. Her hand doesn't leave his as they work past them, though. This confuses James more, and he worries about the strength of his left hand, if he'll hurt the much smaller woman next to him.

Looping her arm through his, Amaris finally let's go of his hand And sighs, "We're being followed. An ambulance, since we crossed the street back there.." She whispers out, he knows not to look, because that would defeat the purpose of being inconspicuous. Are they being inconspicuous?

"We should cross the street then," James says, pulling her towards a series of white painted lines in the road. A group of twenty stand by it and he hopes they blend in, somehow. "Are we running or leading?" He gruffs out, not caring which answer she gives (he thinks).

"Running." Is her only answer as the light turns green and they cross, mixing into the heart of the group as they reach the other side of the pavement. Looking up to him, Amaris sees his frown, again, and sighs. This was going to be a lot of work, but she was relieved he was on her side this time.

Arms looped still, the two continue to walk aimlessly down the sidewalk, passing small shops and parked cars. They keep their pace light and smooth, trying to blend, though Amaris knows it's pointless. Their appearance is too noticeable.

Stopping suddenly and turning, Amaris pulls her arm from James' and he feels oddly cold, "Stop here, look at the display window," she says, touching her right hand to her ear. He sees now a black wire running by her neck, a communications piece. That's how she knew they were being followed, he realizes.

"The cops we passed..?" He questions, blue eyes focusing on the display of maternity items in front of him as he looks past the glass, and see the reflection of a patrol car down the block. "They saw us. We need to blend..." Amaris drags off, watching a couple slide past them and into the Expecting Mothers store. Pulling the piece from her ear, she grabs his hand again, his human hand, and starts off down the street again.

"Look for a store that's bigger than these, but not big enough to have guarded dressing rooms." She says quickly, dropping the comms piece into a trash can as the dip down an alley. He watches how she looks over her shoulder now, to see if anyone comes after them.

Half way through the alley, James stops. The force of him stopping is enough to pull Amaris back to the present and focus in front of them. Two patrol officers are advancing, but they aren't sure if they're a threat and she's not knees on taking a life that isn't needed.

"You okay..?" One (blonde, male, 5'8/9) says as Amaris tumbles into him, grabbing at his shirt front to steady herself while she giggles, James watches, curious.

As she regains her footing, her hood falls back and her magenta curls are picked up in the wind, flushing her face as she giggles again and takes a step back. "Sorry, sorry! Shortcut home, long night!" She grins, reaching up rubbing her eyes as the officer steps to the side, "Just watch yourself, and get her home, okay- buddy?" He says, looking at James expectedly.

"Right, yeah." He yawns out, scratching at the scruff on his face as the two move past them. They look back only once, but Amaris already has her hood up and is wrapped in James' arm as they reach the other side of the alley.

"Are they Hydra?" He questions, looking down at her as she directs them towards a store just as another patrol car comes around the block. Car 312, the same from two blocks over, he notices.

Twisting to look up at him, her own blue eyes meet his, "No. Probably his first week out, seemed awkward. Go in here, we need to change."

Blue eyes like his, but lighter. He misses the emerald and all the things it reminded him of.

"Amaris, your eyes.." He finally brings it up, unsure if he's imagining it or if something's changing about this women next to him. He hears her sigh again, a sad sound, "Later, James. Take your hoodie off, stick it in the rack."

He follows her order and is left in only a white long sleeved shirt, he feels exposed suddenly. He watches as she ducks around a display of jeans and begins to dig through them until she finds a pair she deems satisfactory. Handing them to him, she walks down another isle pulling a grey long sleeved sweater off of a wall display, "Change your shirt," she orders, spinning a mobile case of glasses before she pulls two pairs off.

Pushing the white rimmed glasses up her nose, she hands James a pair of aviators, smiling at his confused look, "Vintage. Like you," she laughs.

It sounds so familiar, so...known.

The sound of a zipper focuses him, Amaris is wearing a black sleeveless top, muttering to herself about "her favorite jacket" and "fucking Hydra" as she drops it into a clothing rack.

Amaris stops suddenly, causing James to bum into her back, both watching the boy in front of them. "Why do you have to guns!?" He asks excitedly, pointing to the holstered weapons Amaris is wearing. James hears her sigh, then she's reaching behind her and he thinks she'll pull a knife out,_ from somewhere, because she does that sometimes._

Instead she shows the boy a black enclosed badge, "Police, kid. Keep this quiet and we'll owe you one." She lies with practiced ease, smiling as the boy (sixteen, 5'5, brown hair) runs his finger over the golden badge. "Cool. But people don't like guns," he says hushed, handing Amaris a burgundy jacket, "it looked like you, catch the bad guys?" And then the kids gone, grinning as he leaves the store.

Amaris holds the jacket as James slides a flannel shirt over his sweater, it's leaves are already rolled up, so he leaves them. Nodding, Amaris grabs a pair of fingerless lifting glove up, tossing them to him While she yanks a floral dress from a hanger and heads for a doorway. "Keep watch," she says, ducking into the shadows for a few minuets.

Emerging he sees her Rose-Pink color hair framing her face, and thinks that the light blue of the dress looks all wrong on her, and the burgundy jacket doesn't look like her at all.

Meeting his gaze, Amaris hand him a pair of black boots (if he runs long enough, he's sure they'll break apart) "You next, put these on too," she says quietly and turns back towards the store.

Successfully re-dressed and confused, James steps up behind her and notices she still wears her black laced boots. "Small comforts." She says, seeing him looking down at her shoes, smiling.

"Hold still, will you?" He watches as she stands on her toes with some black material in her hands, then feels her fingers in his hair. Shes working the black thing over his hair, tucking it back into it. Smiling, she lowers herself down and he sees himself in a mirror across from them. They look familiar, maybe someone from the past..?

"A couple from earlier gave me the idea, put your glasses on.." She trails off looking toward the front of the store as two police men enter with a piece of paper in their hands. No doubt a sketch of one or both of them.

"Back door, James. Go." She rushes past him as the men see them move, and she grabs his hand and flings the door open.

The alarms all around him, the sounds so..._familiar. _


	3. Witnessed a Crime

**Disclaimers! **

**Alert me of anything wrong, or inconsistent! This is still very new to me.**

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><p>Shoving the door closed behind them, Amaris leaned against it while James took the wall opposite her, breathing hard with a pained look on his face. "James! James...move that dumpster in front of this door, okay?" Her voice drove him out of the darkness surrounding him, pulling him from a fragmented memory of two small boys running down alleys and laughing.<p>

Watching James brace himself against the dumpster, Amaris yanked the jacket from her arms and began to feel around for any sign of an implant. Hearing the hiss of James' prosthetic arm never bothered her, but now it was distracting her from the task of finding the tracer implanted into her arm.

Finally feeling an odd lump in her left bicep, Amaris smiled slightly. "James, I need you to get this out for me.."

He watches as she pulls the knife from the strap around her right thigh, under the oddly flowered dress. Handing James the long black knife and holding her arm out, Amaris sucked in a breath and started to watch down the alley.

Switching into the Soldier is easier than he likes, but James is grateful to be distracted as he cuts a four inch line down Amaris' bicep, digging two fingers inside to feel around for whatever implant he might find.

Crushing the small device between his metal fingers, James drops the object and looks over Amaris while rips a piece of fabric from the bottom of the dress. He never liked it anyways, he thinks, frowning as he turns away while she wraps her bloodied arm.

Feeling a weight against his back, he turns to see Amaris handing him one of her pistols, thought judging by the weight in his belt, she tucked one with him while he was...distracted.

"Shit.."

Pulling her knife up again, Amaris and James see the two officers from the shop running down the alley towards them. Grabbing his hand, Amaris spins around ready to backtrack to the street. Feeling James tense at the sight of the black sports car blocking their route, Amaris spins again towards the officers as they draw their guns and begin to shout for them to get down.

"James, Run!" She screams, lunging forward and jumping, coming down on the closet "officer".

Gripping the side brackets of the dumpster in his left hand, James pulls it away from the wall and moves it in front of them as guns start firing. Pulling his own pistol up and aiming past the whirl of magenta hair, he fires into one of the officers, effectively stopping him.

Pulling her knife from the chest of the second officer, Amaris moves back beside James, grabbing his hand as a dark blue van pulls into the the only other escape, it's door already opening as more Hydra pour out into the alley.

Whoever is in the black sports vehicle finally gets out, the sound of a door opening alerts James as he turns on his heel, gun up and eyes narrowed.

"Barnes! Don't shoot!" A red haired woman screams, rolling a black metal ball past him and Amaris. "Get down!" The woman screams, so he does, pulling Amaris down with him as the ball explodes.

Kneeling besides James, Amaris pulls her knife and gun up, looking at the woman intently while James tries to see through the smoke and snow.

_There is no snow, it's September, Buck. _

The voice he hears is not his own, it sounds much softer and sincere Than his. The smoke begins to clear as men emerge from it, stepping around their few dead.

"James, get in the car. Go with Wilson. Go!"

Her feels her hands of his face again, and it feels familiar and distant.

On their feet now, the red haired woman next to Amaris, he watches as she twirls around a man and wraps her legs around the neck of another, a snap signaling his end. Amaris opts for a blitz attack and shoot out as she slides into a man, driving her knife into his thigh while she shoots around him towards the other gun fire.

The pair fight back to back, using one another when needed and throwing things to each other When necessary.

Standing there watching them fight, James recalls seeing something similar before. Only instead of concrete and red brick, there were tan walls and blue mats and many women clothing.

He focuses on Amaris' dress as one man wraps his arms around her waist, hoisting her up as another move forward with a needle out and ready. As he starts to move to them, she kicks out, knocking her and the man back.

The blood and dirt on her knees upsets James, so he shoot the man with the needle as the red haired woman throws something small and silver towards the van.

"Sam! Get him out of here!" She screams, looking at him then towards the black car behind him.

"Man, get in!" Someone screams.

He watches as Amaris grabs the edge of the dumpster to pull herself up, the muscles in her arms flexing from exertion, dirt and blood covering most of the blue dress and it's flowers.

"Go!" She screams, the red haired woman advancing on him as men come around the van with weapons ready.

Shoving him towards the car, he hears her muttering about 'Rogers'.

Getting into the car, he ducks his head down, hands pulling the black beanie Amaris had put on him off.

He smells lavender and blood; he sees a field of wild flowers and broken bones.

The car speeds forward as bullets sweep the doors, and he's lost in his mind while Sam drives.


	4. Not The Way It Goes

**Disclaiming, here.**

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><p>Being stuck in the Stark Tower while recovering wasn't something that Steve had been anticipating when he was told he was moving to a more secure location, but it did come with the perks of Stark. For one, a whole floor was dedicated to a housing area with plenty of extra rooms big enough to be considered apartments, in Steve's eyes anyways. He was also the patient of a very few, trusted and expert doctors that Stark had hired on full time.<p>

Steve healed exceptionally fast, but not fast enough for field work yet. Which is how he found himself sighing every few minuets while flipping through television channels, searching for signs of his long lost friend, Bucky Barnes.

Having not seen Tony in a matter of hours, he assumed the man was busy re-building his arsenal of Suits when the AI Jarvis' voice rang throughout his spacious room.

"Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff is on line two for you."

Throwing his pillows to the floor and grunting, Steve tried to pull himself off the bed, towards the desk to answer the phone, eventually giving up as pain shot through his abdomen again.

"Answer over speaker, Jarvis. Thank you." He sighed out, leaning back against the headboard as Natasha's voice filled the room.

"Rogers, you'll never believe what we found lurking around the Smithsonian earlier. Turns out you're not the only old timer interested in the past anymore.." She drawled out, a smirk evident through her voice.

Sitting bolt up, Steve gasped at the pain and all but shouted, "Bucky!?"

"Sit still, Steve. Sam and I are on it," feeling guilty at the worry in her voice, he leaned back and clutched at his blankets as she explained that she and Sam had stayed in D.C. monitoring surveillance cameras around the city, looking for any sign of the wayward soldier.

Much to a disgruntled Tony Stark, they had finally picked his face up outside of the old museum, before he was escorted into a van and whisked away.

"Well get him back, Steve. Just rest."

The dial tone was all he heard as Jarvis empowered the locks on the housing level and rang out to Tony.

Steve went from recovering friend to prisoner in three minuets.

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><p>Focusing on the distant sound of a car speeding away, Amaris grabbed for a knife when a bullet tore through her left forearm, causing her to drop the knife and stumble back. Natasha was quick, putting two through the Hydra Agent before he could move towards her.<p>

Spinning around, she ducked behind the dumpster again as she waited to see what the other woman had in plan. The sound of rapid gun fire would draw police soon, and they needed to get away before they were either killed on spot, or locked away.

"We gotta go!" Amaris yelled, grabbing the arm of an advancing assailant and twisting them, his gun falling away as her knee came into his groin, then chest.

Firing until the clip was empty, Amaris backed to the end of the alley, wondering if the other woman was going to follow when she turned and ran for her.

Spraying out cover, Natasha rolled two more explosives towards the men in black as she ran towards the smaller girl. Grabbing her arm, the two turned left and ran down the street, disappearing before the smoke settled and the men could stumble from the alley as the police began to pile around.

xxx

Coming to a slow speed in front of an entrance to a train tunnel, Amaris reached down and ripped more fabric from the dirty dress, wrapping it around her bleeding arm as pained rocked her body.

"We need to get out of the city." The red haired woman spoke, hushed in voice and looking around wildly.

"How? Where did he take James? Where's the Captain?"

"Just keep moving, you're bleeding everywhere."

"So are you."

Sighing, Amaris pushed past an old couple and wished that she had grabbed the odd burgundy jacket from the ground before they'd fled.

Turning the corner, the two moved towards an abundance of apartment looking buildings, the sounds of sirens behind them as they walked with a slow pace. Running her hands through her dark hair, Amaris hoped she'd made the right call, sending James with Sam Wilson.

"This one,"

The accent less voice of the other woman broke her from her thoughts, looking around them Amaris noticed they where in a neighborhood and currently standing in front of an old brown station wagon, one that had definitely seen better days.

Watching for any on lookers, Amaris leaned against the side of the car, cradling her bleeding arm to her chest as the other woman moved to the back window.

Glass shattering and sound of a small 'pop' told her it was time to get going; pulling the handle, she dropped inside and gently closed the door as the woman pulled herself up and the car purred to life.

"Where to?" Amaris breathed out, putting her boot clad foot against the dashboard. "Away. Get your foot of the dash, were borrowing."

Amaris didn't miss the smirk that played at the woman's lips as they turned out of the neighborhood and began towards the freeway, it was going to be a long night.

Xxx

One hour into the drive, they pulled off the highway and into a small hotel where they left the car. Circling the parking lot, the two stayed in the shadows as they looked for another car.

Driving for two hours, Amaris had only gotten a name that she'd already known, Natasha Romanoff. Natasha had gotten only questions about the Captains location and why the where heading to far from D.C.

"This? Are you joking?" Natasha groaned, looking at the bright yellow Volkswagen Bug in front of Amaris, who was frowning as she nodded.

"It's completely inconspicuous. I'd never drive this."

"This...this you can put your feet all over."

Smirking, Amaris watched as the same ritual was repeated. Natasha did not trust her enough to drive, didn't trust her enough to let her do anything other than wrap her upper arm once they'd stopped.

Pulling onto the highway again, Natasha pushed a dial button on and let the radio fill the car as she stared into the night.

The moon hung bright over them for the next two hours as Natasha clutched the wheel tight and Amaris looked over the head rest for following cars.

There were none, but the night was still looking to be a long one as they abandoned the obnoxious car and decided to walk thought the city of New York.

"You're getting too many stares.."

"No shit."

Pulling her hands through her red hair, Natasha pulled a sweater from a dozing old lady's bag at a bus stop and handed it to the girl next to her.

Finally in light, she saw how the girls skin was pale and spotted with dirt and blood and her dark eyes had circles under them. She remembered being so young and so tired of the life, while Amaris pulled the dull grey sweater around her, Natasha weaved them to the subway.

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><p>The sounds of locks clicking was enough for Steve to rush from his bed to the door, from the door to the lounge area and towards the elevator. Just as the doors blinded open, Stark stepped out, grinning as he held out a phone to Steve.<p>

"Hey, Cap...baby proof the house, I'm coming up." Sam said, disconnecting the phone call before Steve could say anything in return.

Leaning against the wall, he watched Tony move towards him and felt him clap a hand on his shoulder as he turned to watch the elevator, too.

The night was far from over.


	5. I Wanna Thank You All, For Your Courtesy

**Disclaimers, duh.**

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><p><strong>How lovely are the portals of the night,<br>When stars come out to watch the daylight die.  
>~Thomas Cole, <em>Twilight<em>**

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><p>Amaris followed the older woman through the crowd of night owls and into the subway, they still had miles to go before reaching the Stark tower, which rose in the middle of the city. Bumping shoulders with a young man caused the sweater to fall slightly, forcing a chill through Amaris' body as the man turned, little concern on his face as he began to mutter an apology.<p>

"Sorry...uh, I...you okay?"

Hearing a males voice and not feeling Amaris behind her, Natasha turned around, searching for the younger girl. Seeing her standing in front of a young man (5'6, dark hair, 20's), with the grey knit sweater half off, was concerning. The man, looking Amaris up and down, started to question again, this time reaching out and grabbing her grime covered arm.

Squinting his eyes and running a hand through his hair, the man was beginning to dig into his pocket; a phone, Natasha realized. Hastily she walked towards the girl, pulled her sweater up as Amaris backed into her side, "She's fine. We're actually going to the hospital now. Long night, sugar."

Pulling Amaris with her, Natasha swiped a clear pass card and pushed them both through the swinging bars and down the stairwell to wait for the oncoming train.

Once seated, Amaris by the window and Natasha in the aisle seat, she turned to the purple haired girl, her eyes widening only a fraction at the color change, and in whispered voices spoke, "A girl could really use...whatever it is you're doing to your hair. Your eyes are different now too, blue before, green now?"

Lips curling into a smirk, Amaris glanced past Natasha and down the aisle of passengers who were now watching the two battered women.

"I think we should go. That long night might get a little longer, if we stay on board."

Natasha stood as the train came upon it's next stop, two blocks from where they started. Sighing, she moved to the door with Amaris behind her. A small crowd gathered around them, some asking if they were alright, some just staring as the doors opened and the two women rushed out and up the flight of stairs.

Reaching beside her, Natasha grabbed the paler hand of Amaris as the two reached the street and headed towards parked cabs. Tapping the glass twice, Natasha leaned in and spoke quietly with the driver before opening the side door and pulling Amaris in with her.

The cab ride was long, the traffic at night was as ridiculous as traffic during the day, Natasha mused as she watched the girl next to her. Having promised the driver a wealthy tip if he kept their appearance to himself, she only had two things left to worry over; the return of one very lethal Bucky Barnes and the very real possibility that a highly trained assassin with more darkness and red flooding her than even she was used to was sitting next to her.

* * *

><p>Steve and Tony stood in front of the elevator, waiting impatiently as the numbers changed. The wretched feeling in Steve's stomach was making him jittery and...sweaty. He had certainly had better days, physically, but he was positive this night would drown out all good days, emotionally.<p>

As the numbers slowed, he felt Tony stiffen beside him then his hand on his shoulder. Being taller than Stark, Steve had to look over and down some to see the other man as he spoke, "This took a lot of strings, Capsicle. Keep the super secret killing machine away from the glass, 'kay?"

From the smile across Tonys face, Steve knew he was just being...Tony. He cared, but not enough to just pat you on the back and leave it at that. He always had to dig and joke, which Steve was normally fine with, but this...this was Bucky.

Nodding as Tonys hand fell away and the numbers stopped changing, he bounced on his heels as the elevator gave a small _ding._

As the doors slid open and Sam was visible, Steve thought he might throw up. As Sam stepped out and a bulk of dark clothes and long hair followed, Steve felt like he'd been punched; taking a deep breath he limped forward slowly as Tony shook hands with Sam.

"Hey, Buck.." Hearing Steve's voice, the voice that James had been hearing in his head for days...years. Looking up and pulling his hood back, James could only stare at the man in front of him. Steve had a black eye and some bruising and the cuts across his skin reminded him of older days.

_"Am I always going to find you with black eyes, Steve?" _

_"He was a bully, Buck.." _

Pinching the bridge of nose, Bucky stood still as Steve moved towards him, a worried look on his face as silence filled the hall. "Hey, Buck...do you, do you remember me?" Taking a step towards Steve, James lifted his right hand, resting it on his shoulder with mixed look of peace and fear, "Always black eyes...I...I know you.."

His voice is quiet, the words that come out like a question though, and Steve couldn't stop the frown that formed on his lips. Taking a shaky breath, his eyes met James' and he gave a crooked smile, "Yeah, Buck, you're whole life..how'd you get away from Hydra?"

Looking at Sam now, Steve stepped beside James and waited for someone to explain things. The day was burning away as they stood in the hall,huddled around the elevator, "Wheres Romanoff?"

Sam looked at Tony, frowning suddenly as Steve lead James towards the lounge area. Returning after fixing Bucky something to drink, Steve asked the same question, the worry evident in his voice.

Coughing, Sam glanced around Steve to see Bucky staring out into the dying light of the city. "She got caught up with the girl who helped Hydra get him back. Man, I'm not a spy, I'm hardly a professional...but she's gotta be cut from the same crazy serum you two are.." He trailed off, watching as Bucky moved back to the hall as Tony ht the button for the elevator. Glancing back at them, Tony grinned, "I'll track down the lovely spies, if she hasn't checked in by now, she's being followed. If the girls with her-"

Cutting him off, James' voice filtered with exhaustion as he spoke, "Amaris...she was with the woman..from the bypass? We left them.." He looked ashamed, so much so that Tony could only sigh and step into the elevator as Sam and Steve tried to convince Bucky that they had to leave.

Watching as the darkness swept across the sky, James turned as the patio door slid open, seeing Sam carrying a tray of mugs towards him and Steve.

"Alright," Steve started, taking a mug from Sam as he sat in one of the many iron garden chairs, " you said Amaris, that's the girl who helped you get away?" After seeing Bucky nod, Steve continued, "How? Why would she take you in, just to end up having to fight your way out?"

Steve paced around the patio for a moment, James watching as Sam pulled some small electronic device from his bag and began typing onto it. "I don't know. They called her Amaris..but that...seems wrong." Putting his head in his hands, James groaned at the over flooding of memories and emotions That had been over taking him lately.

The darkness made James feel at ease, more comfortable than the daylight had, anyways. Standing and walking towards the railings, he looked down towards the street just as a taxi pulled along the curb of the building. "I think someones here, Steve?" He said, looking over as Steve stood next to him, watching as two figures stumbled from the cab and to the building.

"It would appear that Agent Romanoff has returned with a guest. They will be up shortly, I'd advise a first aid kit, which of course, will be ignored."

Jumping, James looked around for the source of the voice, but saw only Sam and Steve still. "That's JARVIS, he kind of runs the place." Steve spoke quickly, moving back inside the building and to the elevators.

Catching Tony waiting also, the three stood waiting as the numbers got higher and higher.

James could feel his blood rushing, he could feel the adrenaline building inside of him. He hadn't heard from Amaris since he'd fled D.C. with Sam earlier that day, now well into the night and he wasn't sure if he even knew her at all.

As the silver doors slid open and the two women stepped out, Sam whistled and grinned, "Girl, you make us look bad."

James watched as Amaris stood by the elevator as the doors closed, she was watching everyone as they spoke and asked questions. He took in her appearance, and found he wasn't too startled at the sight of dirt and blood on her clothes and legs. "Amaris.." He hadn't realized he'd spoke until she looked at him, green eyes meeting blue as she sighed, opening and closing her mouth, unsure of what to say.

"I'm pretty sure Luminita, Amaris, Luna...it's all the same, right?" Tony said, moving between Steve and Natasha as Amaris shifted her weight, rubbing her arm as she did so.

Finally grinning, she said "You're good. I'm better." before bending down and pulling a flash drive from her boot, tossing it to Tony as she stood.

The way her plum colored hair fell around her face was familiar to James, however, her lavender scent was lost. He couldn't help the disappointment that washed over him. Tony gaped at her, closed his mouth and grunted out, "Don't get blood on my floors."

Steve, finally noticing how the girl cradled her arm, spun and went to find a first aid it, the one JARVIS told them to get.

"Nice to see you again, James."

Focusing again, he gave a small wave, watching as a look of amusement passed over Amaris' face. "Seriously?" Natasha started, "we need to talk about that small ambush back there, Luna."

No one could miss the anxious tone Natasha had, it was unusual for her. As she eyed the younger girl, waiting for something. James wasn't sure what to make of anything, but he was sure he knew this girl. This woman.

"You knew. I figured you did."

He couldn't focus on what was happening around him, he kept smelling lavender and seeing flowers.

"You knew who I was too, there aren't too many of us left these days."

James could see green eyes and hear laughter, he could feel warm fingers on his face.

"You look different, but I guess that's not a surprise, Amaris."

The moon. Darkness, James was comfortable with darkness, he felt safe...with darkness?

"Ophelia...?" It came out as a whisper, but felt like a scream. The chatter around him stopped, he watched as Steve wound the bandage up her arm, he saw how Natasha tilted her head at him, Sam leaning against the wall as the AI rang out again.

"Ophelia." He said it again, confident this time as her eyes softened and Steve stepped away.

He knew her, he was certain now.

He just didn't know how, or from where.

* * *

><p>AN : I feel like its important to notice the change between Bucky and James.

Bucky is the carefree, happy, loving, protective guy Steve knew.

James is the man the Soldier is becoming, because you can never go back, only forward. There will be some intermixing, because James is Bucky and Bucky is James, but he is also still the Soldier.

James Buchanan Barnes is such a complex character. I love it.

Amaris is a Hebrew name by origin and has different meanings, I've gone with either "child of the moon" or "given by god".

Luna, of course, means the moon in many languages.

Luminita is Romanian and means "little light", this is important.

And Romanian, a nod to the Romanian Disaster himself. *swoons*

Ophelia is Greek by nature and means, sort of, "help" and of course was used by Shakespeare in Hamlet, tragic, tragic.

The many different backgrounds so Amaris/Luminita/Ophelia are important.

And we all know how sick Hydra can be.


	6. Mnemphobia

**Disclaiming. **

In the week that Bucky had been at the tower, Steve had stayed as close as he could during the day and outside the bedroom door at night, he learned in the first two days that Bucky hardly slept. If he did, he woke up screaming and at a loss of where he was.

The woman, Ophelia or Luna or whatever she went by, was kept on one of the lower floors for questioning by Tony Starks private security. As far as Steve knew, the two hadn't seen each other since the night she and Natasha stumbled out of the elevator.

Bucky asked about her a few times, but was shut down by either Natasha or Steve. She hadn't been completely cleared and he wasn't completely stable, either. Natasha seemed to be weary of her though, and that was enough for Steve to want the distance between the small girl and his long lost friend. For now, anyways.

xxx

_"How long have you been...self-aware..?" _

_"Too long.."_

_"Why did you help Sergeant Barnes escape Hydra custody?"_

_"He remembered Captain Rogers."_

_"He remembered your name, but we can't find that name in any database. Why?"_

Natasha stood on the other side of the glass wall, watching Maria Hill ask the same questions to Ophelia. They had been going over a series of questions for the last two days, the first few were spent allowing recovery and establishing that she wouldn't double cross them. Natasha was, so far, convinced that the girl wanted out. After all, if she had wanted to kill her, the opportunity would have been when they were in that alley together.

The sound of the door opening pulled Natasha from her thoughts, turning as Clint moved to the glass, standing beside her. "So, this is her. She's small. It can't be her, Nat."

Watching him from the corner of her eye, Natasha grinned while shaking her head, "I'm small. We were all small, once. It's her, Clint, trust me." Clint could only sigh as the red haired women next to him placed her hand on the glass, a screen appearing as a holographic keypad followed. So far Stark and Natasha had only found vague mentions of The Moon, Luna, Luminita, and Amaris in any of the data bases that they could hack.

The search of the flash drive Ophelia had given to Stark was an incomplete list of various Hydra facilities between New York and D.C. as well as information about Sergeant James Barnes and the Winter Soldier, a list of confirmed kills and detailed reports of mental activity dating back to before his fall. Natasha was impressed, slightly, by the amount of work it would have taken to track down a ghost and give him a name and history.

The flash drive contained little information about her though, and that's why she was several floors away from James. Natasha had heard rumors before, rumors after she trained with the Soldier of another project being opened and while Clint might doubt it, she was positive the Ophelia was a product of the project.

xxx

Shuffling papers and grabbing another folder, recently relocated agent Maria Hill looked up, eye to eye with the girl across from her, "What is your full name, Ophelia?"

"Ophelia. I was never given another name, aside from my call-name."

"Which, in all languages, is the Moon. Why?"

Frowning at the question, Ophelia spread her fingers across the metal table and cracked her neck, "Project Ascending. I don't know, why'd the KGB name them Black Widows? They're all crazy."

Leaning back in her seat as Maria Hill wrote down more useless words, Ophelia sighed. The same questions, everyday; like they thought her answers would change, word for word, they never did.

Looking past Agent Hill, Ophelia took in her own appearance, not for the first time since she was brought to this floor. Her plum colored hair was in tangled loose curls and the cut under her eye was healing well, her knuckles weren't as bruised and cracked as yesterday and the loose black tank reflected just how pale her skin had become in the last few months.

The more she looked at herself, the more rage filled her. Placing her hands in her lap and focusing back on Agent Hill, she waited for the next series of questions.

They never came.

Agent Hill stood up, suddenly, a neat pile of folders tucked in her arms, turning with a curt nod towards the glass window. Looking back at Ophelia, Hill backed up one step and grinned around her words.

"Project Ascending never took off, as far as we can tell, you're the only one who..survived..it."

Tilting her head in confusion, Ophelia wasn't sure why the other women was grinning, or where she had gotten the false information.

"This ends our time, Stark wants you to go through a full psych-evaluation and then you can move to the home floors."

"Oh."

xxxx

"She's clean, Steve. I mean, as clean as we get in this business."

"Nat, I don't think it's a good idea. Bucks still having the nightmares..Nat..she could be dirty.."

Leaning against the wall, James listened as the two argued faintly. He remembered the incident at the by-pass, he remembered hurting Natasha...twice.

He could feel the heat of the desert, the sand on his arm as he waited for her convoy to come.

He smelt the fire of the car and the feeling of a grenade in his hand.

It was over-whelming at night, in the dark. The way he could practically feel someone's blood between his fingers, hear their screams and cries for help. He never told Steve, but he felt like he wouldn't have to...and that was okay, too.

"I want to talk to Ama-Ophelia. I know her."

His gruff voice surprised Steve, who had just begun to pull food out to prepare dinner. In the short amount of time they'd been back together, Steve hadn't been able to really connect to him; not in the way Natasha did with her Russian, or Sam with his knowledge of PTSD, but Steve was okay with it. He would be there when Bucky remembered, if he did, and either way- Steve would be there.

"Buck, I don't know..she might be a trigger," Steve said, putting down a box of instant mashed potatoes.

"But I..I know her.." His lips turning down slightly, James ran his flesh hand through his hair before he turned and went back towards his room. Stopping only when he heard the small, "Ok." From Steve.

If he remembered what a smile felt like, he'd probably smile now.

xxx

The obnoxious 'ping' of the elevator had James in an odd ball of nerves, he could place how he knew the girl, just that when she was around he smelled Lavender and was almost positive he had never had her blood on his hands. Almost.

As the silver doors slide open and Agent Maria Hill stepped out with Tony Stark, Steve bounced on his heels. He wasn't on board for Ophelia staying, not yet. But Tony was, Hill thought she was legit and Natasha was weary about the girls past- which was unusual. He placed a hand on James' shoulder and gave a forced smile when he looked over to him. Worried was an understatement at this point.

Emerging after the two In front of her, Ophelia pushed her bangs from her face and took a deep breath. It had been a week and three days since she last saw him, but she'd gone longer. Standing in front of the remaining Avengers, she wrapped the long black sweater around herself and shifted her weight, uncomfortable suddenly.

"I'm Ophelia, I guess...Hi?"

Finally, after a heart-beats silence, Tony cleared his throat and held up his hand, "That's Sam 'The Falcon' Wilson, 'Hawkeye' Barton, The 'Widow', and our very own Capsicle. You've met Agent Hill, but not the 'Big Green Guy' or Thor, he could be a WWE casting reject, and then there's Fury, who's dead but not-"

"It's nice to meet you, officially, Ophelia." Sam said, cutting Tonys rambling off and offering his hand out. Meeting him half-way, Ophelia took Sam's hand and squeezed it lightly before smiling at him.

Finally meeting James gaze, Ophelia shrugged and rubbed at her throat, absentmindedly as each Avenger gave a proper 'hello, nice to see you not covered in dirt and blood' wave.

His blue eyes held a spark that she used to know well, so when he moved from Steve's side and stopped in front her, Ophelia waited for either the clarity or the rash outburst.

"You look better in black...Opie."

Grinning up at him, she knew he unconsciously said it, and she was fine with that.

It meant that he'd remember enough of her, she just hoped only certain memories came back.


	7. Sketchy

**_Diclaiming, here. Sorry for the long wait. But have we all been watching The Walking Dead and the new Avengers trailer?! Oh my god._**

* * *

><p><em>"Better in black..Opie.."<em>

It poured through her brain, it drowned out all the questions from Steve Rogers and the others, it raced to beat her own heartbeat; he knew her name, or rather, the shortened version that he'd given her years ago.

Ophelia pulled her pale hand through her hand, giving a shaky laugh as she leaned against the wall beside the elevator doors. Leaning forward, hands on her thighs, she sighed out as a pair of shoes came into view; Steve.

"How do you know Bucky?" He asked with a high level of distrust evident in his voice, a distrust that Ophelia was familiar with and couldn't blame him for having now. Looking up to the 6'2 Super Soldier now, she straightened her posture and spoke calmly, "I was the fail safe, incase he couldn't do the mission, I was to finish it. But...I'm compromised."

"Obviously. But how?"

Moving past Steve, Natasha now stood in front of her with her arms crossed against her chest and eyebrows raised. If anyone were to understand, Ophelia guessed, it would be her. Absent-mindedly rubbing the bridge of her nose, Ophelia looked away, "He remembered the Captain, before...before all this, before we knew you survived."

Glancing at the group of wayward Avengers again, she continued when no one spoke, "He was calmer around me. It compromised me, and they found out. I was wiped, repeatedly, and then...it just stopped working..."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, each digesting a new piece of the puzzle while Opie, again, pulled the black sweater tighter around herself.

Finally, Tony moved beside Steve, clapping him on the shoulder as he whistled out, "Alright then! Your pysch-eval was...well, not normal, but given the special circumstances, that's...okay. Whatever, let's do a physical then."

Blinking rapidly, Ophelia could only nod at the mans odd timing. She'd done many physicals and numerous training exercises before, she was not too badly injured to warrant not agreeing.

As the silent others started to move, most likely to leave, Tony again made a declaration, "Everyone to the 23rd floor!"

James was silent and still as the others began to complain and question Stark, Ophelia pushed off the wall to stand in front of him again, this time placing her hands on his arms, metal and flesh.

"James..James are you here?"

Her voice focused him suddenly, his ice blue eyes snapping towards her own emerald ones as he stumbled backwards into the hall, pulling away from her grasp and grunting when his shoulder knocked a framed piece of art from the wall.

The shattering of glass drew the group, namely Steve, back towards the two ex-Hydra assassins, both of who now stood facing each other, at areasonable distance.

"James, listen to my voice," Ophelia started, taking small steps towards the unhinged Bucky Barnes, "listen to me, and follow me back, James.."

The words died from his ears as he covered his eyes with both hands, stumbling again until he crouched to the floor, back against the wall, hearing only screams.

_A woman._

_Ophelia._

_In darkness, he heard a rough scream, he felt it vibrate through his bones._

_Not in darkness, he could see his own hands, human and not, wrapped around pale wrists. He could feel the breaking of bones and hear the crunch they made as he shoved them down harder; he could see the way pale skin turned red under his touch, the way pain danced across her flesh._

"James!"

"Bucky?"

Opening his eyes, he could see her, Opie, this small woman on her knees, hands on his face now as she searched for any clue as to what he'd seen; what he'd remembered.

Looking away from her now, he made eye contact with Steve, who looked worried out of mind, like a mother whose child ran off at the market. James found the irony funny, though he wasn't sure why, or how, it would be funny to him.

"Hey..you good?"

Looking back at the woman in front of him, he nodded once and moved to stand just as red flashes took over the building and a deafening siren wailed over the speaker systems.

"Sir! There's an inbound aircraft with hostile weaponry."

JARVIS' voice cut through everyone's worry and quickly drew the inhabitants of the building into 'fight or flight' mode, all suddenly avoiding whip-lash as they looked at each other.

Obviously, they chose to fight as they each dashed away until it was only Captain Rogers, Tony and Ophelia with James.

Turning on her heel as she stood, Ophelia meet Tony face-to-face, both at a stone stare as he spoke, "Time to see what you got, moon-child. Stay with them. JARVIS, suit me."

As Tony rushed towards the opening elevator, he was engulfed in the red and golds of his armor in seconds before he was taking to the balcony doors and off into the sky, following Sam Wilson.

Opening her mouth to speak, a blast shook through the tower as Natasha lunged towards James, bringing him flat against the ground while Steve wrapped an arm around Ophelia's waist moving her behind himself.

"Bucky!" Steve shouted, glass exploding from the other side of the room while Natasha shoved a large round object across the floor, followed by a gun and a long, serrated knife; smoke filled the housing floor as Steve stood, shield secure on his arm as arrows soared past him, light filling the area they embedded into. Clint Barton, or Hawkeye, crouched next to Natasha while she strapped her Widows Bites to her wrists, Ophelia watched as Steve pulled James up, moving in front of him as they started towards the broken glass walls.

Standing, she steadied herself, crossing her arms as she raised the gun and knife; gun over knife, ready to trade one weapon for another if needed. Stepping away from the wall, Ophelia rushed towards James and Steve, both whom where standing and looking wildly around the area.

"This is hydra. It has to be, Bucky we gotta get you out of here!" Steve said frantically, one hand in a fist and the other on James' arm, pulling him away from the hall leading to the common area. Natasha nodded to Steve before ducking around the corner; she was out of sight by the time gun shots echoed back to them.

James crouched down with Steve as Ophelia shouted over the chaos for an incoming strike, he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't surrounded by so much noise, by so much dust and debris.

He couldn't remember a time when his life was simple; he couldn't remember most of the last month.

Covering his eyes as Steve drew up his shield, the two were clouded in grey when James heard her gasp. Ophelia had been in a semi-crouch when a grenade had rolled around the corner, kicking up dirt and shrapnel as it knocked her backwards as blood spread through her thin black clothing.

James heaved himself over to Ophelia, who now laid on the floor coughing as the grey fog cleared out, bullets and fire blazing through the common area next to them As he pulled her into a sitting position.

He remembered feeling her smooth skin on his palms and the way it felt when her bones had snapped under his grasp; he could see the blood under his nails and smell the lavender as she screamed and writhed in pain.

"James! Look at me! We gotta go!"

Meeting her steel grey eyes, James nodded and grabbed her hands, pulling them both up- only to be tackled back down by a man in full black tacktical gear; Hydra on his arm.

"Steve! James!"

Natashas voice pierced through Ophelia's muffled curse as a second man landed a punch into her ribs, the first throwing an empty needle down as James staggered and fell into a third man who was pulling a black case from his pocket.

James saw double and felt the world move as Ophelia screamed his name over and over, crying out as a burning sensation swept through his veins before a dull, aching cold flooded him.

Grabbing the second man's tacktical vest straps, Ophelia jerked her knee up and into his gut, following with an elbow to the back of his neck. Using all of her 120 pounds, she brought them both to the floor, the man grunting and attempting to roll away as Ophelia wrapped her sweaters arm around his neck, pulling and tightening until he stopped squirming, then jerked his head violently sideways- to be sure.

It wasn't fast enough though, as Steve was now retrieving his sheild and running towards the blown-out glass walls as James was hoisted into a harness and pulled from the floor, two Hydra Agents following him out.

"Cap, they got your tin-man toy. Better move quick, we already brought one bird down.."

Tonys voice echoed throughout the eerily still room as Ophelia watched Steve throw his sheild, trying desperately to stop James from being strapped down into the cynical looking chair...again, like so many times before.

Moving around the now still body of the HYDRA agent, Ophelia ran towards the windows and leaped as Steve's shield soared between building and helicopter; leaving behind her the shouts of the Captain and Hawkeye.

Tucking her knees into her chest and rolling into the open door of the Black Hawk chopper, Ophelia reached out for Steve's shield as it 'bounced' off of one agent; spinning in a crouched position as she flung it into one of the men currently strapping James arms down.

As the man went through the opposite door-opening, screaming as he fell, Ophelia lunged for another agent just as he moved for her. Jumping up and grabbing the railing running above her, she wrapped her legs tight around the mans neck, jerking him sideways as he buried a short handled knife into her thigh.

Grunting at the impact of metal on bone, Ophelia jerked the agent back around, his head bouncing off of the wall paneling before she let go and dropped down on bent knees.

Glancing over her shoulder as a groan past James lips, she pried the knife from her leg and whipped it at the man who was digging through pull out drawers, assumingly looking for another syringe of whatever had knocked James out.

As the man writhed and gasped for breath, Ophelia moved towards the cock pit, dogging to the side as bullets seared past her. A sharp turns of the chopper flung her against the webbed seats, her head knocking against the metal as black stars filled her vision; James' curses filling her ears as she rubbed the back of her head while dropping to the ground.

Having only a moment between the co-pilot re-loading and getting shot at again, she sprang forward with the bloody knife and drove it up and under his chin, his body going slack on his seat and the other pilot scrambled for his own weapon.

The sudden thrash forward sent Ophelia to the ground again as the pilot tried desperately to steer the helicopter back up. Grabbing the co-pilots pant leg, Ophelia pulled herself up enough to see the Harlem River too close for her preferences.

"James! Hold on!" She screamed as alarms and flashes of white light went off inside the small area. Gripping the slacked safety belt, Ophelia gasped as the Black Hawk turned sideways and skidded into the water.

James, still strapped into the chair and hooked to machines, felt the chopper tilt and an electrical current surged through him, powering his left arm.

Tearing through the restraints of his left arm was easy; seeing Opie hanging limp, a fraction of metal railing through her abdomin and her blood, her life, swirling into the water, was not.


End file.
